


42

by grandmas_ghost (nap_princess)



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Bad Ending, F/M, I wrote this fic for me but y'all can read it if you want, Minor Character Death, Modern AU, some violence, work au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 04:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nap_princess/pseuds/grandmas_ghost
Summary: It's self-sabotage. Self-destruction. Because, honestly, who's going to say 'yes' to him anyways? Who's going to say 'yes' to a murderer?/"I thought you were proposing,""No, you said you were busy."– Jerza but also not really, modern angst AU





	42

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [42](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383900) by Primary feat Sam Kim and eSNa. 
  * Inspired by [Lying To You](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383912) by Keaton Henson. 
  * Inspired by [I Went Too Far](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383913) by Aurora. 
  * Inspired by [Mostly, They Missed](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/383919) by snappleducated. 



  **42**

* * *

_42 terms and word play_

 (1) In Korean, the number 42 sounds like the word '사이' meaning 'a relationship between two individuals'

(2) The answer to life, the universe and everything according to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

(3) In Chinese, the number 42 sounds like the saying 'easy to die'

* * *

고백할 줄 알았는데  
바쁘다고 했잖아 네가

 – **Primary** , _42_

...

Baby, I'm lying to you,  
And I feel in some way, I do love you. But, babe, I'm not in love with you,  
Babe, I'm _not_ in love with you.

– **Keaton Henson** , _Lying to you_

...

Crying 'Oh, give me some love!'  
'Give me some love and hold me!'  
'Give me some love and hold me, _tight_!'

– **Aurora Aksnes** , _I went too far_

* * *

* * *

 "You shouldn't be with me."

.

.

.

He leans in, sweeps away her long red hair and kisses the back of her neck. It's a good morning kiss where she groans into her pillow and where he doesn't have to look at her.

"I love you,"

And although he just said it, although he said something intimate and special, he's lying to her.

And he knows she's lonely, and he knows it's because of him. Because he's not the one. And, he thinks, they both know it.

He assumes _too much_.

She turns and buried her face into his chest. Once again, they don't look at each other. No seeing eye to eye. Her arms are around him, trying to keep him warm but he still feels cold.

* * *

He makes her so happy, she wonders if he knows.

...

"Where are you going?" Erza asks as she sets her tea down on the counter, her hair is still a tangled mess of bed hair.

It's Saturday. A lazy afternoon but Jellal's got his convenient store polo shirt on.

"Work," Jellal answer, he picks up an apple and takes a bite out of it. "I'm taking an extra shift."

"Again?"

"It starts at eleven-thirty."

Erza looks at the clock and lets out a laugh. "Good job, Jellal." – It's 11:20AM.

Jellal only mumbles in reply, mouth full of apple, before he gives her a quick kiss on the cheek. It's sticky and sweet, this only makes Erza laugh more.

Even with limited time, he still manages to make her laugh. He's out the door before she can ask why he's taking extra shifts for what seemed like the billionth time.

...

Erza cocks a brow. Sometimes she really questions her life with her lover. But then again, she does get nosy at times and asks way too many questions for her own good. Shouldn't she know the man she's so so so in love with?

"What are you wearing?" She says as she walks into the apartment, wrinkled office clothes and tired feet. Today has been a little hectic. She kicks off her heels and places her house keys in the empty fruit bowl by the front door.

Jellal turns away from the kitchen counter. There's a questionable accessory perched on his face. He answers, "Sunglasses,"

"Indoors?"

"I'm making dinner," He defends himself, sounding sheepish.

"And you have to look cool while doing it?" Erza asks in amusement, the corners of her lips are now lifting upwards into a smile. Today doesn't seem as exhausting now.

"What? No." Jellal replies, he puts down the chopping knife in his hands and gestures to the board he was using. "I'm cutting onions. You know I can't stand them, they always make me cry. None of those life hacks help me, _ever_ , so I thought I'd try my own idea out."

"Is it working?"

"Yup," Jellal pops the 'P' and lifts the sunnies off his face but then freezes the moment he touched his face. He panics, " _Holy heck_ , I just touched the corner of my eye. It stings – I think I'm going to go blind!"

Like any good partner, Erza laughs about it first. The back of her throat rumbles and she swears she's snorting so very hard while Jellal threatens her that there will be no dinner if she doesn't do something about his stinging eye. It takes her way longer to calm down than Jellal would have liked but she does her there ... _eventually_. Erza does smile really widely though while helping Jellal wash his face with her clean hands.

"I'm going to tell my friends," She declares. He makes her smile so easily, intentionally or not.

Jellal tries not to roll his eyes. He wants to say with sarcasm laced in his voice 'I'm glad you're enjoying my misery' but instead he just tells her a polite, "Okay,"

* * *

She's got a whole bunch of friends, too many to count with one hand; people to hang out with, places to be, engagements, things to be busy with.

While he's got ... acquaintances. Well, people who drop by his work place at odd hours and have a small chat. Urtear, a lady with dark hair who's coping with her deceased mother – because Urtear isn't sure if she's sad because she _misses_ her mother or if it's because she _missed an opportunity_ to get to know her mother. And, Meredy, a delinquent girl who dyed her hair pink and wears earmuffs always; practically forever.

(He's trying to help them because he can't help himself)

But at least, he has a job. At least he's paying the bills and that makes him feel better. Not infinitely, but still better. Because at least, he can support Erza. So he's not entirely useless or _just_ baggage.

He works at a twenty-four hour convenient store, night shift. Because who the hell cares about a guy with a facial tattoo during twilight hour when the person at the other side of the counter is buying questionable stuff – like condoms at four AM. Like, why? _Please_ , go to sleep. No one needs the bang-bang at four AM.

...

When Jellal returns back to the apartment they share (which he will never call 'home' because he's convinced he'll go one day), he does his usual routine of taking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket.

It isn't until he's slipped himself into bed does he realize how warm the bed is and how clean Erza Scarlet is while he must have been cold from standing under the air-conditioning for hours and he must be dirty for walking past people blowing their cigarettes and vapes.

It's six AM, he's so tired and he doesn't think he has the strength to shower. While Jellal's contemplating on sleeping on the sofa (despite knowing his feet will stick out), Erza calls for him. It's a sleepy mumble and Jellal isn't even sure if she realized she just said his name.

"Yes?" He answers back politely. Like they're acquaintances or random strangers in the street talking about the weather. Like they don't live together and share everything. Like they're not in love with each other.

She mumbles something at him. It sounds gibberish but it also sounds like she wants him to promise her something.

He just chalks it up to 'buy me strawberry cake' or something which he can do but budget would be tight. But then again, he'll do _anything_ for her.

"Okay," He says then tangles his hand through her pretty red, red hair.

Erza gives him a lazy grin before she drapes an arm around his middle. It's a sweet gesture – possibly subconscious – but Jellal can't help but sigh inwardly because now he has to stay and sleep in bed and let her inhale smoker air that's clung to his skin. He thinks he's such a bad lover.

* * *

He had saved her – that's how they met.

He was coming home from night shift and she was walking back to her car after a girls' night out. A bunch of imposing bastards had tried to corner her and asks her for favours. Favours that she does not owe anyone.

"This is false imprisonment!" Her voice booms through the quiet night. She is very angry and _will_ kick their asses but law school has taught her even she can break the rules and end up paying for it.

The two guys laugh at her for trying to stand up for herself, to them. Erza was _this_ close to letting her temper get to her when her knight in shining armour steps out of the shadows (just like Batman, but not really, though it's debatable that he's just as troubled).

"Hey, you assholes better leave her alone." The person in the shadows growls as he glares at them. "Don't you have better things to do?"

Jellal steps under the illuminating street light. The guys get spooked because Jellal's got his hands stuck in his big coat pockets. They probably think it's a weapon like a gun or a knife. But, honestly, it's just a sandwich.

(A measly sandwich that his boss had let him have because it's expiring today and no one wants it. But it's food **and** free so Jellal can't argue much)

Just a sandwich. But Jellal doesn't think he can kill anyone via a sandwich. Or kill anyone _in general_. But Jellal doesn't blame the guys for thinking he's scary. He does have a bright red facial tattoo after all.

They turn and run with their tails between their legs not 0.2 seconds after looking at Jellal in the eye. When they're gone, Erza faces Jellal, looking bright and shocked at the same time. He doesn't even get a chance to ask her if she's alright because Erza talks over him.

"You – You saved me!" Erza gaps at him and grabs his wrist so that he doesn't leave suddenly (also like Batman). "Please let me make it up to you!"

Jellal gaps back. Someone's actually being nice to him back? "What? No, it's fine, you don't have to."

"No, no. I insist." And her grip around his wrist tightens.

And Jellal realizes for a drunk girl, she's not sloppy or stumble-y. She can handle herself pretty well.

"I – I couldn't." He stammers at her. He feels embarrassed by this. He can scare off a couple of thugs but not speak to a girl? How sad.

"No, please. I insist. _Please_ , give me your number. I want to make it up to you." She says.

And Jellal thinks it's pity. He thinks it's probably because she can tell how poor he looks. How his cheap winter jacket is barely keeping him warm, how he's shivering, how pathetic he looks.

He's always been a push-over, he's already said 'no' and he knows she won't take it. He barely knows this beautiful lady with red, red hair but Jellal can already tell she's persistent.

"Okay," Jellal tells her and she lets go off him. <.p>

He sighs and takes out his old phone. It's a _Blackberry_ (but, hey, at least it's not a _Nokia_ phone).

”Oh, wow," She says, gapping once the phone is in her hand. She still punches her number in though.

"Yeah ..." Jellal trails off.

"I'm Erza, by the way. Erza Scarlet." She introduces once she hands her _iPhone_ to him. He can barely use it. He likes his own phone better.

"Jellal Fernandez." He says but only because it's polite and because Erza is still holding his phone hostage.

Erza smiles in return and he _thinks_ – no, he **knows** – it's the prettiest smile he's ever seen.

* * *

"You're so nice." She says with a grin once they've finally mustered enough courage to video call each other after that night their fates intertwined.

He tries to smile back because he doesn't think he's nice.

"Thank you," He says though he doesn't mean it. But her lovely face and soft brown eyes pulls him in all too easy.

* * *

For as long as they can remember – helpless ten year olds, prepubescent twelve year olds, angry fourteen years olds, license holding but not car owning sixteen year olds – they've always had bad luck. Even now, the police are still not on their side. People like them don't get justice served on a shiny platter.

Jellal and Simon run from the police because that's what they've been doing all their life. Because no one believes them. Because the police see them minding their own business and think they're trouble. Because that was just their lives.

But now Simon's not running anymore. He's just sitting in an urn in his parents' living room. But Jellal's still running. He runs and runs and runs until he thinks it's the most natural thing to do.

* * *

Jellal Fernandez and Erza Scarlet are not a match made in heaven. No, far from it. Because he has _several_ criminal records while she has a _Law degree_. And he thinks it's crazy. It's **crazy** for them to be together. Impossible even, who could possibly love him after knowing what he's done? After knowing his horrible past?

...

"You shouldn't be with me." Jellal says in an old memory that happened ages ago. Back when they agreed to meet up after weeks of talking to each other. The thank-you-for-rescuing-me thing escalated into something else and he doesn't know how he could have let things get out of hand.

"Is there a reason?" She asks, hands wrapped around her warm cup of tea through she would trade it any day just to hold his hand.

Jellal swears a little part of him died on the inside. He never liked telling people but he knows he has to warn her. Warn Erza Scarlet of the monster he is. So he tells her about his past.

"I grew up on the bad side of town," Is what he starts his story with. "I was a troubled kid. A real piece of shit. I had a lot of beef with people and not a lot of friends."

"One day, my best friend, Simon, and I got ambushed by a bunch of kids I really hated. They held me down and gave me this tattoo," He confesses, a hand touching his face. The touch felt ghostly. "It hurt so bad."

"The police came right after they finished. The kids let us go. Simon helped me up." He explains.

"We scrambled. There were too many of us to distinguish between each other. The police were after us for the wrong reasons. We ran into an abandoned building but we eventually all got caught. The other kids lied once the police told them to fess up." He says.

Then he pauses and tells her, "Something happened while Simon and I were running."

"What happened?" She asks.

"I lost my best friend, I lost Simon. We were racing up this rickety infrastructure and he slipped. I tried to grab him but I lost my grip. Then the next second I knew, Simon had fallen four stories down. Knocked unconscious. I thought 'Fuck it, I'll give myself in. I can't let Simon take the fall' but then he died right before my eyes."

"What?" Erza asks though it sounds more strangled.

"Brick to the head. Fell right on his skull before I could even climb down." Jellal says though he swears he's trembling. "The police thought I had done it. They thought that I had thrown a brick at my best friend's head, _on purpose_ , just so that I could get away. I don't know how they could just – I mean, to throw a brick at someone's head just to shake the cops off or some shit, that's just –" He sniffs. "I got convicted afterwards, no questions asked. Assault, battery, trespassing, **murder**."

"Jellal –"

"But I supposed I'd understand," Jellal says, his voice in that familiar self-blaming tone. "In a situation like that, I suppose anyone would."

Erza tries to grab his attention once again, she pleads and apologizes because that's the only thing she can do. "Jellal, I'm so sorry –"

"Who would _you,/i > believe in that situation, Erza?" He asks her suddenly, cutting her short. "The authority that social media has told you to look up to for as long as you can remember or some punk kid with a bad reputation?" _

"You," She says without a second thought. Without any hesitation. " **You**."

He cries openly in that café. How pathetic he must have looked. He tells her, "You're such a fool."

* * *

They are celebrating tonight. Erza's gotten a promotion at the law firm she's working at and red wine is the way to go. But honestly, Erza would like any excuse to let Jelal drink. He's usually looser afterwards; more open, chatty and actually tells her things instead of always keeping it bottled up and being so reserved.

Erza throws her head back in a laugh the same time Jellal accidentally spills his drink on the dining table.

"Oops!"

She passes him the kitchen towel. "Here, for accidents."

"For accidents?" He echoes, grabs the towel and slams the entire thing on his head as if to say, _Me. I'm the accident. I'm the mistake._

Erza pauses before her smile drops into a frown. No.

_No._

_._

_._

_._

"You shouldn't be with me." He repeats drunkly as she puts him to bed. But this time, she thinks he's the fool.

 

 

.

.

.

Her hand snakes itself around her neck like she was choking, suffocating, before it moves to her chest. Her hand can feel her heart pulse and thunder widely. Her face was filled with expression, filled with _something_.

She says a curse under her breath, it's a tiny noise.

"Fuck," She hisses. " _Fuck_."

She's sobbing quietly now. Why can't he – no, won't he – believe he is so much better than he could ever dream he is?

* * *

He doesn't make the proposal date subtle. It's the opposite. He circles that date in red with bold letters of **PROPOSE TO ERZA** on it.

(But it's not because he knows he's perfect for her. It's not because he knows they'll be perfect for each other)

The not-so-subtle proposal, of course, flies over Erza's head. She doesn't see it even though she walks into the kitchen more times than him. So many times. She passes the hanging calendar every day; to make food, to get a glass of water, to unpack the groceries, yet still doesn't see it despite it being there for two weeks straight.

And Jellal desperately wants Erza to.

Because he thinks, if she sees it – if she sees it, then she'll say 'no'. And when she rejects him, he can have a reason to make it awkward. He can have a reason to drift away after a fail proposal. To leave.

Because, honestly, who's going to say 'yes' to him anyways? _A murderer_.

It's self-sabotage. Self-destruction.

But when weeks past until it's the day, Jellal thinks, _Never mind. Never mind. I'll just propose then._

"Hey, Erza?" Jellal calls as he leans against the doorframe of Erza's office.

She's surrounded by paperwork and sticky notes and scattered pens. And he has a ring box in his pocket. It's heavier than it looks.

Erza hums in reply, snatching up a page and reading it. "Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?" His hand curls around the box – the ring – their possibly never to be future.

"Umm ..." She humbled, putting down the page before lifting up all her other case files and mumbling to herself. "I'm kind of busy."

There it is, that's the rejection Jellal wanted.

"Thank you," He replies.

"What?" Erza asks, looking up and at him. There's bruises under her eyes and her messy bun looks like a catastrophe. She's messier than usual. "But I didn't do anything."

"No, you did. Thank you." He's so polite even when his heart is breaking.

* * *

”Nice earrings, Erza." Lucy Heartfilia compliments as she turns away from her desk. It's neat with her pens placed in a cup, colour-coded post-it-notes and a picture of her fiancé with their cat.

Erza touches her long dangly earrings. She knows Jellal has always had the tendency to be a tight penny person when it came to his own expenses but he never once hesitates to get _her_ something if he thinks she deserves it.

"Thanks, Jellal got it got me." Erza responses, now smiling brighter.

The blonde grins in return. "He sounds sweet. You should bring him for our office party. I know Levy-chan and the others would want to meet him."

"You think so?"

"Yeah," Lucy bobs her head. "Everyone will **love** him."

* * *

He thinks that … everyone must **hate** him.

"Jellal, where did you go?" She asks him, face red with anger and exhaustion from running after him in her heels.

He stands there, not saying a word like he has no explanation.

"Where did you go?" She asks again. "You just took off and I got worried."

He did. He did just take off. Erza had proposed to go to an office party with her friends that was open for anyone's partner to be invited. He had said 'yes' to please her but now ... now –

Why did she take him there? Why did he even agree to go?

If they had seen him. Looked him in the eye, read him, saw his facial tattoo. Would they have known? Would they have recognized him from old documents from oh so long ago? They would have judged him for sure, he knows it.

He knew he would have embarrassed Erza so he slipped out and walked away. He had the plan to run away like a foolish teenager but she caught him. She caught him and he was never good at crime.

"You promised," Erza reminds Jellal. "You promised me you'd stay by my side. I remember I asked you. I know it was early in the morning but you said 'okay', you said you would."

"I'm sorry," He apologizes, his voice barely a whisper.

She calms down after seeing his face, his reaction. He sounds so broken. Was this all a mistake?

"It's okay," She says though he thinks it's not.

"I'm _so_ sorry, I’m such a handful."

"It's okay." She repeats. "That's why I've got two hands."

He wants to cry.

She intertwines their hands together, holding him close so that he doesn't slip away. After a moment of silence, she says, "I saw the calendar this morning. I was going to tear off last month's page when I saw what you wrote."

He doesn't reply but his heart decides to beat fast.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She asks then states, "I thought you were proposing,"

He laughs, though it's flat. "No, you said you were busy."

* * *

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> – 24 September 2017


End file.
